Savage
by BnWhites
Summary: You never know how you will act, when is your breaking point, Sasuke?


Savage

In all of my days, I've never experienced something as gruesome and horrifying as war. It turns men's minds until they can't think; until they can't act without being primitive. Eating, surviving, and killing are all you can retain. The second you get off that boat, you are walking into its chaos or you are physically thrown into this whirl wind tornado, this catastrophe.

This is my story and how I tried to survive the First World War.

(How I became the beast)

Getting across the oceans and plains is not the hard part; it's the fun part, the part that is easy. Traveling miles and miles on foot is nothing compared to the conditions we are faced with at battle. Carrying your supplies is a welcome comfort because you know that you havesomething to hold onto. You have food, spare clothes, and water. You knowyou have these.

But that's all before you enter this pit, filled with fire and heat. It's stench that of death and that is cloaked in false promises, promises you believe.

_(This pit called HELL)_

All the training you've learned and the hours you spent memorizing plans and strategies leaves your mind. The enemy is not even a mile from you, and you know that they are waiting against the earth for some kind of leverage, anything you can give them—minutes, seconds; they're ready for the kill that will ultimately help in your demise.

No man's land is the only thing saving you,

_(Your preservation)_

They lay in wait, plotting, scandalously. Your best friend is in shell shock, his legs and arms twitch, disgracefully. His eyes are wide in a drug induced state even though you dream of liquor with your every being. His mind is in frenzy; the nerve cells stopped working, oh, so long ago. Two months have gone by since we've been abandoned in these woods, since my dreams have haunted me, since I've started feeling like I couldn't trust my best friend,

Since I've felt like he's the enemy.

_(Kill him.)_

At night, is the worst of it all. I can't take it. I can't take it! My mind is turning, I'm hallucinating, exhaustion fills where my strength should lie. In the back of my mind, a voice keeps reminding me,

He's still there, taking your heat, taking your life.

(Kill him now, no one

Will ever…

Know...)

This primitive state, so confused and unwise. I know it all, and yet, I can't fight it anymore. He's there; I can't feel safe. They're all here, sitting next to me, talking next to me, laughing bitterly day in and out. They don't deserve it.

The enemy is here; it's over there.

_(They want your life)_

Mine?

_(yessss.)_

I couldn't allow it; you couldn't understand. My best friend he knew all of my secrets. That time when I stole money from a baker; the time I called my mother a bitch; the time I got in a fight with some guy at school. Everything I felt guilty about, everything I wanted to forget.

What I really wanted was to forget him…

(_Go on, do it._

…

_I won__'__t tell…)_

Slowly, oh so slowly, slippery, slyly, I tossed him over my shoulder. His head rolled against my back, but he didn't stir. My breathing was labored, heavy and throaty. Climbing up and over the trench's front line, huffing. My heart felt so erotic; it was tearing through my chest with heavy drum beats. I didn't let go of him, didn't let him fall face-first into the ground.

Not yet.

(_Hurry up_.)

Ever so quietly, I stood up on no man's land, bringing him with me, in front of me; my shield for life. He was sagged against my chest as I hefted him up onto his own feet. He swayed dangerously. My hands let go and I watched with fascination as he swayed twice more, before his knees bent and his body cascaded down.

…....and I yelled at the top of my lungs....

(_Run_)

My mind so twisted, commanded my body and I turned to sprint, hearing the voices of my enemies behind me and the sickening sound of flesh ripping apart and the canons of gunfire sail towards my best friend.

I turned back,

(_Don__'__t_.)

His body swayed as gunshot after gunshot pelted his skin. His lone scream filling in the silence when mine ended. His chest was blossoming with red.

He always looked good in red.

_(run)_

The flesh was tattered and ragged. Wide pupils were dilated to an unhealthy degree. His eyes were empty, looking forward, but not seeing anything in front of him, not hearing the satisfied howls of his killers.

Or mine.

_(Hurry.)_

But, I saw his expression change, his face transform, into something of bliss. He looked happy to die, to have his best friend betray him in the worst way, to know that his memory was gone at the age of sixteen.

I couldn't understand.

_(You don__'__t have to.)_

What a traitor. How undeserving as I. But I couldn't stop the giddy laughter from spilling out my lips. My eyes no doubt were wide and my brain was now frazzled. My hair was matted and covered in dirty. My uniform, oh what a comical time, was still intact and looked alright.

My laughter escaladed.

_(Quiet.)_

Too late. I heard the coffee mills rip through the air and I felt the bullets piercing my body. I could feel myself dropping to the floor; laughter still floating through the air, letting the wind bring it back to my comrades. I couldn't stop this uncontrollable laughter. It overtook me.

What a feeling.

(_What a fool.)_

My vision turned black and the last thing I saw what the cloudy sky that let one star peek through the clouds. My limbs were flailing in the pain that I failed to feel.

What a moment of bliss.

_(Goodbye.)_

It's time to go to hell; my throat filled up with blood and I choked on my own blood. What an odd feeling. I tried spitting it out in-between my laughing fits. There was too much.

My vision went black.

My world went light.

.... And I started to really fly.


End file.
